


A Game of Kings and Love

by fae0412



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Bilbo, F/M, Half-elfish Bilbo, Sort of like Game of Thrones but not really, fem!Bilbo, hobbit au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:45:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fae0412/pseuds/fae0412
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella Baggins grew up hated and unwanted as the daughter of the elven king Thranduil and the abducted hobbit lass Belladonna Took. Sold to a dwarven king that her father calls a savage in exchange for a secret treasure, Bella fears her future holds more pain than her past. However, her new home is nothing of what she expected. But trusting any goodness in her life has only ever brought more pain and suffering. Could she actually have a chance at the happiness she so longs for? Or will fate once again crush her hopes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bella uncomfortably sat atop her horse. As a hobbit, she should not be riding a horse, but her father and king, Thranduil, forced her to master riding horses, just as he forced her to a good many other things in her life. Though a princess, her life lacked the simple luxury most royals were afforded.

Belladonna Took, Bella’s mother, was a Took through and through. As a girl, Bella would escape to Beorn, a gentle friend and giant, who told her stories of the her mother's adventures. As her father was cruel and heartless, Bella liked to pretend that her mother was gentle and caring, missing her daughter with ever fiber of her being. But as Bella grew, she learned that such hopes were merely a deluded drift from the truth that eased suffering; such a shield was a luxury she long ago discarded to face the cruelty of her world. Belladonna wondered into Mirkwood shortly after her engagement to Bungo Baggins, but she never made it out, not until years later. 

The elven-king, Thranduil, took an immediate liking to the strange hobbit creature that spurned his every advance. Try as he might, the hobbit lass ignored his every attempt to woo her. Eventually, the king fancied himself in love with the hobbit lass, and threatened her beloved Bungo less she marry the elf. Fearing for her darling hobbit, the lass conceded. 

Her unhappiness only expanded from there. Thranduil raped her, time and time again, calling it her obligation as a wife. Wondering through the halls of the palace brought no relief to the hobbit lass, who mourned her Bungo and her Shire. One day, she fell pregnant with the elven king’s child. Excited though she was, the elven king felt repulsed at the thought of a hobbit heir that could potentially inherit his throne, should his other son come to harm. 

Belladonna begged him to spare her child, her only blessing, and he, still proclaiming himself in love with her, granted her the wish. That did not mean the child was awarded any kindness from him. The hobbit lass was finally allowed to leave, and though it broke her heart to leave behind the child, she could not remain there. She begged to have her daughter with her, but the king refused. Despite his hatred for the half-elven girl, the king scoffed at the idea of one of his blood residing anywhere but in the Mirkwood, where he could use his daughter to whatever means suited his needs. 

Trained at a young age to act the part of an elfish princess, Bella spent her childhood fighting her father. All the other elves mocked and bullied her, taunting her with jabs at her size, her oddity, her rounder face, her fuller body. She never knew a kind heart or a loving gesture except from her brother. 

But the lass trained. She took on any challenge they threw at her. Though her stature and nature made it difficult to have natural mastery at certain skills, the harsh words and blows from her father and his people served as inspiration enough to motivate her. The cruel words were frequent, the blows more so. The king almost took delight in seeing bruises upon her flesh, stating that it, at the very least, was a sign she was elfish in some way. 

Every achievement, every success was looked upon with a nonchalant indifference that made her heart shrivel up. The king constantly claimed that as an elfish princess, no less was expected of her. A mistake meant dishonor and a beating, from the king himself. Horses were a very big trial for her; her stature alone meant little control. She mastered it, if only to spare herself the wounds. 

 

Two hundred years later, Bella rides upon a horse toward the neighboring kingdom, Erebor, home of the dwarves. Visits in the past afforded her knowledge of the mountain, and her surprising diplomatic aptitude allowed her some familiarity with dwarves themselves, but the lass was terrified. Thranduil had traded her for something, he told her, had given her hand in marriage to the barbarian prince in exchange for a treasure beyond her wildest hopes and imagination; useful for something at least, he mocked. That morning, they had pulled her hair straight, as they normally did; trying to undo her hobbit curls and turn them into straight elfish locks. It would not do for the dwarves to feel cheated out of an elf bride, after all. 

The horse Bella was on was one her brother, Legolas, gifted her; it was the only gift anyone gave her. Her brother shone as a beacon of bright light, a hope and a love that never wavered, even if the world around them fought against their camaraderie. Now, even that was taken from her, as she was sold for a trinket, one she did not even see. The journey had taken four days, and most of the bruises her father had given her to secure her compliance had begun to fade; hopefully, they would fade by her wedding night. 

As she crossed the enormous gates of the mountain, a pang of fear shot through her belly, settling higher up, in her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elfish: "*Hi*"
> 
> Khuzdul: ":Hi:"
> 
> Normal: "Hi"

The giant dwarven walls instilled fear in many hearts, intimidation in others, awe in most, and jealousy in even more. They served as a warning to other races that dwarves, especially those of Erebor, were not a race to be trifled with, not one to be underestimated, undermined, or insulted. For Bella, it served as the gate to her future prison, where the sun awarded no respite or comfort, where the only breeze that blew came from the shafts of the tunnels where the dwarfs mined their precious metals. No, this giant mountain, with all its hoards of treasure and metalworking, was more a gilded cage than a new home. In her last jail, the forest, animals, and sun at least gifted her with a welcome reprieve from the abuse of her kin. 

Crossing those giant stone gates meant her past life was behind her. Would this king be kinder than the last she lived with? Bella could only pray so. Perhaps she would make friends, have some comforts here that were only dreamed of in the Mirkwood. But then again, her father made it clear that the dwarfs hated all things elven, and the match was only arranged for the sake of an alliance and exchange of treasure. 

The entourage of elves that accompanied her entered the city with more trepidation than was necessary; their disdain and utter displeasure at being her staff was palpable. They were only there to ensure the deals of the contract were made, and that she survived the journey. The true travesty would be if she were to die before the king made use of her and exploited her for the elves’ benefit. Maintaining their distance, the posse turned back to check on her, assuring themselves she had not opted to run away. After confirming her presence, they dismounted carelessly handing the reins of the mounts to the stable hands. When she dismounted, Bella remained near her beloved mare, brushing her soft bay coat and cooing at her as the animal lovingly responded to the attention, affectionately nipping at her hand. The stable hands reached for the mare, who responded negatively, pining her ears and whinnying as she lashed out with her front hoof. Bella attempted to calm her, which proved difficult as the beast felt her own nerves and fears. 

She nodded to the dwarves, who returned the nod and took charge of the wild steed. Bella felt the eyes of both dwarrow and men, coming in and out of Erebor and Dale. Most displayed open curiosity, though some occasionally exhibited some sympathy at her hesitant and clearly reluctant attitude. 

“*Hobbit*,” exclaimed one of her elfish guards, “*Be quick about this. The sooner we are rid of you the better.*”

“*Leave if you wish it,*” she retorted, “*There is no need for you to remain.*”

“*Wretched creature,*” he snarled, grabbing hold of her arm, “*You know nothing of loyalty. We swore to our king to see you handed off to the dwarf and to return with his prize. How can you even suggest…*”

“*The dwarves approach,*” warned another of the elves.

Though he left go of her arm, Bella felt the pain of his grip, wincing slightly. They always conveniently forgot her hobbit heritage made her flesh more vulnerable to their stronger holds. 

“Greetings,” announced a dwarf with a long white beard and maroon robes, “I am Balin, advisor to King Thrain.”

The elf who had reprimanded her nodded, “Compliments, Master Dwarf. I am Lindol, the head of the princess’s guard.”

“We have been expecting you,” said Balin, “Princess Belladonna, if you could follow us, we will lead you to the throne room, where the king will give you the gems.”

“No need,” snapped Lindol, “Give us the jewels and we will be on our way.”

“Lindol, do not be rude,” scolded Bella, glaring at him with cold eyes, “Our host is being gracious, do not shame your king.”

“*You do enough for us all, Halfling,*” spat Lindol, giving Bella a look of disgust.

“Master Balin, please, lead us to your king so we may complete the peace treaty,” she said kindly, signaling out with her arm and hand.

“Of course, your highness,” agreed Balin, who signaled to his companions to depart.

He made to offer his arm to the princess, but when he reached to lightly grasp her arm she flinched away, pain gracing her features before she smiled gently at him and took his arm. Though he returned the gesture, he kept the reaction at the front of his mind, replaying the scene he had interrupted with his arrival. They group walked into the mountain dwelling, the elves turning up their nose at the elaborate architecture, the precious metals and stones, and the beauty of the population’s interactions. 

Bella, however, admired it all. Balin led them through halls of various designs, from pathways with endless ceiling and infinite drops to smaller but still intricately carved tunnels, brightly illuminated and the dark stone beautiful and serene. The geometric patterns carved into the stone highlighted the different natural shades of the rock. Bella expected a cavern or a tunnel, cold, full of dirt, and overall mole-like; she realized how wrong she was.

Balin, on the other hand, noticed much about the elfish delegation. The guard kept their distance from the princess, and, from the looks of it, thought very little of her, if what the head guard had so vehemently snarled at Bella. The elves were fools to think dwarves did not learn their language simply because of equal dislike. He would have to inform Thorin and Thrain of this development. 

As the delegation reached the entrance to the throne room, the elfish guard halted unexpectedly. 

“Master Dwarf,” began Lindol, “The king expected some sort of public, royal exchange, not a private ceremony.”

“Lindol, enough, your complaining is unjustified, seeing as you were hoping to make the only moments ago. Cease your badgering,” ordered Bella, confident in the knowledge they would not challenge her in front of the dwarves.

“Princess, please,” said Balin, a clever twinkle in his eyes, “My king does not go back on his agreement, Master Elf. By all means, remain here until you are ready to enter,” he turned to the princess, “We eagerly await you, your highness.”

When the dwarves had all entered the throne room, the elves turned to face the half-hobbit angrily.

“*How dare you defend such filth? Have you no pride in your family?*”

“*Pride in an egotistical, prideful king and his ignorant subjects? You do yourself a disservice, Lindol, to believe me to be so naïve,*” snapped Bella.

Lindol lifted his hand, ready to strike her, but she grabbed his arm as it came down and used his momentum to flip him over. After his back met the stone floor, she stepped on his throat, closing off his airways.

“*Hobbit whore!*” the others exclaimed.

“*Listen closely. You will walk in, get the rocks, leave, and never bother me again. Your king has no power here,*” she demanded, looking at each of them in turn.

At their nod, she let Lindol go free and opened the door, not waiting for him to rise before stepping through. The dwarves broke into whispers when they saw the small half-elfish princess step into the room, leaving behind her guard with one on the floor, a bruise forming on his hairline. She walked until her foot the dais of the throne; she curtsied. 

“Your majesty,” she said, “I believe we have an exchange to conduct. Here’s your half,” she motioned to herself, “Give them theirs so they can leave.” 

“Princess Belladonna,” began King Thrain, “I’ve heard much about you, little one.”

He waved a hand at a small red headed dwarf with a round haircut and various braids stepped forward, handing him a small chest. The king took it and opened it. The princess grabbed the starlight gems, and turned to the elves behind her. 

“*Tell Thranduil that I hope he enjoys his new daughter. This one says good fucking riddance.*”

With that, she threw the rock at them.


	3. Chapter 3

Elfish: "*Hi*"  
Khuzdul: ":Hi:"  
Normal: "Hi"

After the elven delegation left, smiling through their hate-filled glares at the princess they escorted, the dwarrows turned to the soon-to-be bride. She immediately shrunk back into herself.

“I… I apologize,” she said timidly “I suppose that was not the type of conduct you expected a princess of the Woodland Realm to have.”

“Lass,” began Thrain, “Truly, I believe we will get along.”

“Indeed,” began a guard, smiling merrily and warmly at the princess, “Any who hates tree-shaggers is more than welcomed in our halls!”

Bella looked disbelievingly at the dwarfs, eyeing them disbelievingly.

“I am also elven,” she said slowly, “Would that not make you hate me?”

“Whatever you may be,” began a king, “you are not an elf, and even if you were, we would not judge you based on that.”

“Understand,” began the white haired dwarf who led her in, “That dwarfs and elves hating each other for no reason is nothing but a myth. The elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor dislike each other, yes, but due to valid reasons and dishonorable interactions on both sides.”

By this time, a small group had migrated into a hallway. Balin, the king, and Bella walked through the pathways in the mountain, winding through the elaborate stone halls until they reached a dining room.

“We thought you might be hungry after your journey,” said Thrain.

“That is very considerate of you, your Majesty,” she replied, feeling slightly overwhelmed at their kindness.

“Nonsense,” he waved a hand as if that would dispel her feelings of unease, “It would also be productive to meet the rest of the family while we eat. Food conversations reveal many interesting details about a soul.”

Silently, the girl agreed, recalling various times Thranduil had manipulated diplomats and other visitors to drink until they revealed all their secrets. Hopefully, the dwarrow king was not referring to such events. 

“I’d also like to introduce you to my eldest son.” At this the princess looked uncertainly at the black-haired dwarf. 

“My betrothed?” the king nodded.

“The thought scares you?” asked the king. 

“I was led to believe he was,” she hesitated, “Well, that you were all barbarians.” 

The two dwarrow looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“Have you not visited our halls before, at least enough to feel comfortable to agreeing to this?” said Thrain.

“Lass,” began Balin, “Were you even asked regarding this?”

Surprised, Bella looked to him.

“Asked? No, I was ordered,” she answered.

Thrain frowned. They neared two stone doors. Two large guards opened them and Balin led the trio into a small dinning hall. The table sat 12 people comfortably, but was not much larger. Overall, the decoration of the hall was inviting, giving a warm feeling with various blue hues spread about the room. A large fire roared in the hearth in the room, providing much needed warmth. Truth be told, she was shivering and cold. Thranduil, in an effort to eradicate her non-elven heritage, treated her as if she could withstand climate in the same manner as elves. According to him, she would be trained until the cold would not bother her. Sadly, it did not work. 

“Welcome to our home,” said a kind voice.

Bella looked up, realizing she was staring at the fire and the floor. A dwarrow woman stood in front of her. Her blue dress highlighted her blonde hair and blue eyes beautifully, though it was the kindness in her eyes that made Bella want to weep. When she was young, she used to dream her mother had such kindness in her gaze.

“Hello,” she whispered. The dwarrowdam frowned. 

“You’re shivering,” said Queen, turning to look at the small crowd that had formed around them, “Frerin, give her your coat.” 

The black haired dwarf pouted when the blonde-haired one handed her his fur-lined coat. 

“Introductions are warranted, I think,” began the dwarrowdam as she led her group back to the table where various foods rested, “That is Frerin,” the blonde-haired prince who gave her his coat waved with a happy smile, “And that is Dis,” the other dwarrowdam, black-haired wearing a blue dress, nodded with a small smile.

“Nice to meet you all,” said Bella softly, smiling and holding on to the coat tightly.

“I thought elves did not feel the cold?” asked Frerin.

“I am not an elf,” responded Bella quietly as she sat down at the table.

“Yes we know,” said Dis, “Frerin can be a dolt. He forgets children have two parents and two different sets of traits passed down to children.”

At this, the blonde haired prince stuck his tongue out at his sister. Everyone gave a mild chuckle.

“Behave,” admonished Thrain. 

Everyone sat down around the table and began to eat, small conversations flowing as easily as the wine. 

“Bella?” asked the Queen.

“Your Majesty?” she responded, courteous.

“Please, call me Dora,” smiled the Queen, “I am curious about your past. Where is your mother?”

The temperature of the room dropped suddenly, with every face turning toward the source of the shift. Bella, shrank into herself, recalling all the horrible things her father accused her of doing to make her mother leave.

“She,” Bella looked up, “I’m afraid I do not know how to answer that question ma’am.”

“Bella,” Dis said, reaching up and gently holding Bella’s arm, “You seem tired. Shall I show you to your quarters?”

Bella almost wept. She looked up and smiled slightly at Dis, sending her a small nod. The two women stood up, Dis prattling on about this and that to distract the other. Bella turned and looked upon the table before she left, blinking back memories and tears before solidifying her mask and responding the Dis. 

“:It seems we are uninformed of many aspects of this agreement,:” started Balin.

“:Indeed,:” murmured Thrain, stroking his beard as he processed the girl’s reaction.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I know it has taken me a long time to update. I am definitely not abandoning this story. I lost inspiration for a bit, and that coupled with a stressful year kept me from writing. I will try to update more frequently from now on. Enjoy!

Most dwarves warmed up to the new princess after her debacle. One however, remained not only wary, but also suspicious. Thorin Oakenshield, the Prince of Erebor and heir of Durin, maintained a vigil watch on his bride-to-be. Her actions, though obvious in their significance, hid a story. Someone who is disloyal to their family can surely not be trusted. 

Their first meeting, awkward and tense, infamously became known for their proclamation that one was a “prideful, arrogant, brute” while the other was “suspicious, as conceited as her elven brethren, and pretentious.” Dis enjoyed the event greatly, and evidently sided with her new sister. At breakfast, Bella mostly conversed with Dis, Dora, Thrain, and Balin if he joined in the meal. Today, her conversation with Dis revolved around questions about her braiding techniques.

“I quite like the way your braided your hair!” exclaimed Dis, “Will you show me that style of braid? It does not look elven, but I have never seen it on a dwarf before!”

“Um, I believe it is a hobbit braid,” explained Bella.

“Believe? You do not know for sure?” asked Dis curiously.

“I have never met another hobbit, nor been to their kingdom,” stated Bella.

“Oh! Did your mother teach you the braid then?”

“Um, no,” answered Bella quietly, “She, um, left before I reached an age to learn such things.” 

“Oh,” Dis’s features shifted into an incredulous look, “How can a mother leave her child so young?”

“I don’t think she had much motherly affection for me,” replied Bella in a whisper. A tense silence suddenly filled the table, while Thorin looked at the half-hobbit curiously.

“Her loss then! In the few minutes I have known you, I can already tell we will be as close as sisters!” announced Dis happily.

“Truly, dear Bella,” added Dora, “Do not take such an event as a reflection of your own value, for in the few days you have been here, we have come to adore you and care for you deeply.” 

Bella gave her a confused look, sitting uncomfortably and at a complete loss as to how to respond to such a compliment. She opened and closed her mouth, before looking down and continuing to eat. Dis, startled at this reaction, attempted to continue the conversation.

“So who taught you? Your father?” asked Dis.

“No,” said Bella, “I taught myself. I looked up hobbit braids in a book.”

“Was it a book on hobbit culture?” at the other girl’s nod, Dis continued, “Were you curious about hobbits then?”

Bella flashed back to her father beating her for wearing an elven braid, insulting her hobbit heritage and stating she was not worthy of any elven traits, even something as simple as braids.

“Something like that,” ground out Bella stiffly.

“Did I offend you?” asked Dis, “I did not mean to! My parents tell me I ask too many questions sometimes…”

“No, Your Majesty,” began Bella as she turned to the princess, reaching out to rest a hand on the girl’s arm, but quickly recoiling, remembering how unwanted her touch had been in Mirkwood. “Dis,” she amended at the look the royal woman gave her, “I am not accustomed to questions, is all.”

“Then I am probably overwhelming you,” frowned Dis, “I am sorry, I am just so excited to have a sister at last!”

Bella smiled, “Truly, I am as well. If I seem rude or gruff, please know, I do not mean to be unkind.”

“Haha, not to worry! I did grow up with Thorin as a brother!” said brother grumbled at her insinuation and shot her a glare.

“Speaking of Thorin,” interrupted Thrain, “What are your plans for the day, son?”

“Dwalin and I were thinking of sparring in the training yard before he reported to his shift,” mentioning his guard best friend and cousin, he also added, “And after, I was thinking of going for a ride.”

At the mention of riding, Bella looked in his direction suddenly.

“Hmm, Frerin, are you going to join your brother?” asked Dora.

“Probably,” replied Frerin, “Bella, why don’t you come with us?”

Bella looked at Frerin then, then back at Dis, begging for help.

“What a fantastic idea!” betrayed Dis, giggling slightly at the glare Bella aimed at her, “Bella has been saying how she misses practicing her fighting skills and riding her mare!”

“That is settled then!” Thrain exclaimed, head up to the yard with the boys. Thorin, make sure she has everything she needs.”

“Yes father,” grumbled Thorin, glaring at his sister.

Breakfast ended, and the four young royals headed to their respective rooms. Dis demanded she accompany her dear sister, so once the three warriors changed into sparring gear, they made their way up to training yard, making small talk as they walked.

“Bella, how long have you been training?” asked Frerin.

“Since I can remember,” answered Bella, “My father insisted I begin training as young as possible,” To earn my keep by fighting off spiders, thought Bella to herself.

“Have you actually ever seen combat?” scoffed Thorin.

Bella once more thought to the numerous fights with elves that bullied her, the battles against the spiders that haunted their home, and some fights with orcs that dared to enter their woods. Once, while visitng Beorn, she even saved a traveling caravan of humans and dwarrow headed to Dale and Erebor from a pack of orcs and wargs.

“Some,” she responded, “Mostly inside the forest.”

“Is it true there is a spider infestation?” asked Dis.

“Yes,” asked Bella surprised, “Is that not common knowledge?”

“Thranduil prefers to keep information about his kingdom as secret as possible,” answered Thorin in a mocking tone, “Haughty as he is prissy, he thinks himself above all outsiders.”

“Oh,” answered Bella, cursing her father’s pride. So many lives could have been spared if the arrogant king asked for help.

“Anyway,” interrupted Dis, glaring at her brother, “When did you learn to ride a horse? How did you learn?”

Bella turned away from Dis, recalling how difficult it was to learn that particular skill. All the falls, all the broken bones, all the jeers and snide comments about her incompetence culminated in a broken collarbone from the hit her father gave her when she finally managed to jump obstacles without falling, a punishment for being too ‘hobbitish’ and takin so long to learn such a basic elven skill. 

“Lots of practice, I guess,” replied Bella quietly once more as she rubbed the scar on her collarbone.

“Why did you not use ponies? Were dwarven mounts too lowly for your elven grandeur?” asked Thorin rudely.

“I,” she looked up at him, surprised, “I’m sorry, but what is a pony?”

The other three stopped walking, looking at her as if she had grown another head.

“What do you mean, what is a pony?” asked Thorin, “How can you possibly never have seen one?” 

“It is an animal similar to a horse, almost like a miniature version,” explained Frerin.

“Oh!” smiled Bella, remembering seeing such a thing at Beorn’s farm, “Then I have seen them. I did not know they could be ridden.”

Frerin and Dis looked at each other, suddenly worried.

“Did your father keep them as pets then?” asked Thorin disdainfully. 

“No,” snapped Bella, “My friend has a farm on the outskirts of Mirkwood and raises all types of animals, which is where I saw them. My father never afforded me the chance to see a pony, much less ride one.” With that she stomped off.

“Why are you so cruel to her?” asked Dis, slapping her brother harshly on his shoulder, “She has not said anything worth your anger!”

“She thinks herself above us!” barked Thorin.

“No she does not, you insufferable fool,” retorted Dis, “But your blind hate against elves blinds you!”

With that, the princess caught up to her friend, engaging her in a conversation about her horse.

“She is right, you know,” Frerin added quietly, “Something is not right there.”

Thorin looked at the girls. “I will believe that when I have solid proof in front of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, sparring and a ride on horseback!


End file.
